


Aftermath

by SuperOwlMan



Category: Juniper's Knot
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Fluff, Loss of Innocence, No Plot/Plotless, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2584289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperOwlMan/pseuds/SuperOwlMan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unrelated stories of varying length, mostly focussing on the relationship between the boy and the fiend. For convenience's sake and to try and stay true to the visual novel, I'm not going to give them names. </p><p>Most of the these stories will be fluffy and plotless, because I love fluff. It's fun to write, too!</p><p>Anyway, I hope you enjoy what you find here. </p><p>Disclaimer: Juniper's Knot and characters are owned by Dischan Media, not me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night

The moon watched over a warm summer night on the plains. There was a soft breeze, carrying the sounds of crickets in chorus. Long grass blades swayed back and forth in a lethargic rhythm. A few fireflies danced an ungainly waltz near the sleeping form of the boy on her lap. She let her hand drift slowly down the crown of his head to the back of his neck, curling a lock of his hair between her fingers.

The fiend watched everything carefully.

She faced the manor, letting out a breath she did not realize she had been holding in. It was different, being on the outside, looking inwards. The word 'out' itself felt alien in her mind. The ballroom was almost all she could remember; the dusty tiled floor, the pile of stone rubble next to her, the silence that bathed absolutely everything. Yet she knew that there had been a time before that, a time before her binding in that hateful magic circle.

A time before this boy.

He came and planted the olive tree in her place, and she was free. _Free!_ After millennia, after eons, after innumerable lifetimes, she could walk, feel the grass underneath her feet, feel the air of the outside world in her lungs.

She could live again. ￼

***

The ballroom echoed with the sound of a girl's quiet sobbing.

"You're free now." The boy said, his voice muffled beneath her embrace. The fiend tightened her grip and nuzzled him again. She breathed in deeply, savouring his scent. His hair was damp with sweat, his tears mixing with her own. She touched her lips to his neck and bare collarbone, before burying her face into his shoulder again.

"Yes," she said, holding onto him for dear life. "I'm free. Thank you."

He responded with a squeak. After a few minutes of slowly rocking with him, she stepped back, holding his hands tightly. She could feel the sweat on his palms, feel the apprehension radiating from him. Looking him in the eye, she motioned towards the fallen door of the ballroom, the one that led to the lobby, and from there... the outside world.

"So." She started, trying to be strong. Her legs shook, taking away from her façade of confidence. Wiping away her tears, she tried on a smile. "So, person. You're lost, eh? Looking for your 'Moor'?"

He nodded and looked down, scuffing his boots against the dusty ground. "Yeah, I'm lost. That don't matter right now, though." He sniffed and wiped a sleeve across his face. It came away streaked with dirt. "If I start off now, I could make it back home by tomorrow evening."

The fiend smirked and shook her head. She recognized bravado when she heard it. "You'll do no such thing. Fool, you've been lost for two days! You can't navigate these plains without a map, you'll wander the entire earth before you get home!" She pulled him closer and placed a hand on his head, pushing it back so he could look up at her. His eyes were wide with alarm. She smiled back wickedly.

"Well," he muttered, swallowing hard. "You got any bright ideas?"

The fiend's smile widened, and she nodded. "I do, in fact. Find camp for the night and start our journey in the morning."

" _Our_ journey?"

"Well, of course! What do you think, I'll just stay here and let you go on your merry way?" The fiend scoffed. "How very droll. You are a jester, after all!"

The boy sighed with exasperation and tried to hide his smile. "Fine, fine. We camp. But do you know a place?"

"Yes, I do. But first, let's get out of this ballroom. I've looked at these walls for long enough."

***

￼ Down the stairway.

Into the main hall.

Out the front door.

_Do I still remember the way?_

Her first steps on the grass of the manor's lawn had been shaky and unsure. She had leaned on the boy, staring up at the moon, its beautiful luminence almost blinding. The stars looked down from high over her head and she felt the undeniable weight of the universe upon her. She felt small, naked, exposed. Vulnerable.

Vulnerable was a good word. Inside that barrier, she had screamed unholy obscenities at this weak human, promised to rend him limb from limb if her temper dictated so. He had feared her then, and maybe still did. But now, on the outside, she felt as powerless as a dandelion in a storm. She could barely walk.

"Look!" The boy's voice cut through her dazed reverie. He had stopped, pointing at a small mound of bricks that looked like a collapsed cottage of sorts. Covered in moss and grey dust, the building seemed almost a thousand years old. _Perhaps it is, she thought_ , holding the boy's arm tighter. _Perhaps it really has been that long. ￼_

***

Boy and fiend sat under the shadow of the cottage's fallen roof, looking out at the plains ahead.

"Mind telling me your plan?" The boy turned to face her, arms folded. The fiend smiled back.

"No. From what I can remember, there's a spring out east somewhere. Did you pass it on your way into this town?"

"Yeah. At least I think it's the same one you're talking about, probably."

"Good. We'll camp there for the night, then leave in the morning. Can you catch fish?"

"Yeah, but I don't have a rod." He scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. "I didn't leave home expecting to go fishing, alright?"

The fiend waved his words away. "No matter. I'll catch them for you. But you'll have to prepare them. You're just a puppy in this world, but I can't keep treating you like one." She laughed as the boy ducked his head, blushing.

"Uh... do you wanna start for the spring now, or-"

"Give me a minute to reacquaint myself with my legs, lad. It's been a while."

"Alright."

"And," She reached out and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him into a gentle squeeze. "Since I leaned on you earlier, you can lay on me while you sleep. I'll keep you warm." ￼

***

_Am I actually asleep? 'Dreaming'?_

_If you are, that'd be weird for me._

_I'm glad you stayed. I'm glad you're a fool._

_Hm._

_Really, I am._

_Huh._

_I can't say it enough._

_It's alright._

***￼

The fiend looked into the night sky, wishing for direction, a sense of purpose, something she could use as a sign for her actions in the future. Now that she was unbound, she felt a strange obligation to _do_ things. She didn't know what they were exactly, but she couldn't help glancing at the boy's sleeping form every few minutes, wondering if it had anything to do with him.

_Maybe it's still too early to think about the future_ , she thought. _Right now, I may just need to catch up with the past._

Humans, in her eyes, had been regarded as playthings. Puppets, mannequins, empty vessels placed upon the earth for easy manipulation by forces far greater than these puny pawns could ever imagine. Fiends like her and those before her had wreaked upon this primitive beast great destruction and death, devastation the likes of which left the human race with an ingrained fear of her ilk. And for as long as she could remember, she had liked it that way. That was not to say that humans were simply mortal enemies to such trickster folk; indeed, this particular fiend had done great good to humanity at various instances in time. These moments were merely snapshots in the passing film of her life, but they were ones she enjoyed looking over when she sat alone, reliving centuries gone by.

But now, things were different. Things were bound to be different. This adorable thing on her lap was the product of such a difference. His edges were soft, untouched by the horrors of the world, horrors that she had once been privy to. He wasn't broken yet; and as she cradled his head in her arms, she knew she wanted to keep it that way.

She yawned and stretched; the journey outside had been surprisingly taxing. Her legs felt like jelly, her muscles ached and beads of sweat trickled down her face. But she was glad. She felt _alive_. A wan smile appeared on her face, a smile that she made no attempt to erase. Her fingers wandered over the boy lying on her lap. His chest rose and fell softly, his lips pursed and eyelids fluttering. She pressed a hand onto his shirt, marvelling at the steady beating of his heart. She leaned close, inhaling his scent as she had done when he had first wandered into the ballroom. Watercress and black oil, herbs and horses. And now, damp grass.

She breathed in, lifting his head closer to her own, her nose touching his. _How long has it been,_ she wondered idly. _Since I have touched a living being? Centuries? No, maybe countless years longer._ She leaned down, letting her lips graze his eyelids, his forehead and cheeks. _I'm out of practice, for certes_.

The boy stirred beneath her, opening his eyes, lips slightly parted. She stilled; her heart was in her throat. Their faces were an inch apart.

"I thought you said you were dreaming," He murmured, reaching out a hand to poke her nose. She kissed it, entwining her fingers with his.

"I was. I think I still am."

"Why?"

"I'm having difficulty believing this is real. Any of it."

At this, the boy got up and off her lap, moving to sit beside her. His hair was in messy curls, and he was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "You mean believing you're out of that circle?" She nodded. "What's so hard to believe about it? You're outside and that's that. I know it'll probably take a while to get used to it, but I thought you'd be happier than this."

She giggled. _Such wisdom, from a child. Bless his heart._ "You think me sad, jester?" She ruffled his hair lovingly. "No. I am merely pensive."

"What?"

"Get some sleep, and we can talk more in the morning." In the moonlight, she saw him nod.

"Alright. You should try and get some shut-eye too, Miss."

"Hush," She replied, before pulling him towards herself, holding him tight, kissing the side of his head. "Let me dream." ￼

***

The night was warm and the both of them were already sweating, but she could not care less. She had lost sight of the fireflies long ago, and the moon's light was duller than it was maybe a few hours past. There was no longer a breeze so much as a simple breath of wind in the air.

Under the stars, the fiend shut her eyes and slept.


	2. Luna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fiend muses on what the boy means to her, and how much the world has changed.

The boy reminded her of a fawn on its first legs, still wet behind the ears. He was the most precious thing she had ever seen. 

It felt strange to her to observe someone while they were asleep; but to be fair, he  _had_ fallen asleep on her lap, and she preferred not to move him. He looked too peaceful. His hair was fanned out across her dress, strands uneven and slightly matted together with sweat. His face, so pale in the darkness of the ballroom, was pink and his cheeks were flushed. In the silence of the clearing, she could hear his even breathing and heartbeat. The still air was infused with his scent. 

_What a world this must be, to allow something - no, some_ one  _such as this to live,_ she thought to herself.  _He is too soft, too emotional. Without those emotions, though, I'd never have left the ballroom. Maybe things will be different for him after a few years... his nature worn rough by the world around him._

She shivered and held the boy tighter, wishing for warmth. A day had passed since they had left the manor and the desiccated old town behind them. Due east, she believed the small mining town of Brambourg (or whatever remained of it) still stood. 

_Of course, if my assumption is wrong, we'd likely have to wander around the place until we can ask for directions,_ the fiend thought.  _Moonlight and borrowed time is all we possess. His parents are likely searching for him now, unless he's got relatives at the Dales. The sooner I return him, the sooner their nerves will be soothed. But he's come so far, they're more likely to dig up a bloody gold vein than to find even a scrap of his shirt on the ground._

The fiend settled back against the tree she was leaning on and exhaled, willing the stress and excitement of the last few hours to leave her body. Below, the boy snored softly, clutching her dress even in sleep. She felt a strange twinge in her heart, and shut her eyes in response. 

_I wish to stay with him, care for him... protect him. One so hurtless and untainted shouldn't be loose in the world so early, yet. It'll chew him up and spit him out, no doubt about it._

She slept with those thoughts fresh in her mind. 

* * *

A while later, she opened her eyes to find the boy staring up at her inquisitively. 

"Y-you're more fragile than you understand, person." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she turned away in embarrassment, clamping her lips together tightly. 

A curious tilt of the head as the boy regarded her, incredulous.

"Me, fragile? Wha-" He yawned, wide and unabashed, cutting his sentence in half. "What're you talking 'bout?"

The fiend turned back to him and cupped his jaw in her hand, bringing him closer to her. "It's difficult to explain, for some reason." She let her forehead rest against his, looking into his eyes. "The world was so rough before, follow? So rough. It was harsh, unforgiving. A dirty place, filled with scum. I don't know, perhaps there still is scum slinking around in dark corners we can't see. That you exist, though, proves that  _some_ things have changed in the time I've been away."

"Why am I so interesting to you?" The boy asked. The fiend could still see the haze of sleep behind his eyes. "I'm just another kid from town." He stifled another yawn with the back of his hand and placed an arm around her, leaning his head against her shoulder. 

"Well, it's just like I said before," she replied, smiling gently (and she hoped, not too condescendingly). "What's typical for you's not typical for me. I've met so many people since I've left home, person. People that represent the whole spectrum of humanity and its fickle nature. Some good, some bad. But I've yet to meet one like you." She turned her head and kissed the tip of his nose. "A strong, hard-working lad that bursts into tears when he sees a lady's hand catch fire," she said jokingly, but quickly erased the smile in her voice. "A lad that's freed a fiend from her imprisonment. Given her a chance to experience the world all over again."

"Why didn't you take my soul?" The boy asked. The fiend noticed a slight wariness in his tone, an edge of distrust that hadn't been present before. "If I'm as special as you keep saying, then I'm pretty lucky to be alive, ain't I?" 

The fiend sighed and tightened her hold on his body, as if to keep it from disappearing. "I didn't take it, because you don't have anything worth taking." She said it in a breath, hoping her voice didn't tremble too much. "The first living being I've seen since... since God only knows, and you think I'd just kill you like I'd snuff out a candle? You're too pure, lad. Too innocent. You're but a babe in the woods. You have nothing to take,  _nothing_ that would be worth killing you for. And," she paused, holding his face in her hands and staring directly into his eyes. "I'm a tad different from the other fiends that roam the land. Souls are  _not_ everything to me, believe it or not. I consume only the most vibrant, character-filled souls, and I don't find those too often. Anyhow, I don't eat souls to satiate myself, since us fiends take sustenance from the land and its living inhabitants."

"Is that why I'm always tired when I'm with you?" His frank expression, coupled with his languid tone, turned the question into the funniest thing the fiend had heard him say yet. She grinned widely, trying to hold back a fit of giggles.

"Hah! I suppose you think you were born into the title of 'jester', eh?" 

"Mmm." His answering smile was drowsy and weak.

"Shut your eyes." The fiend leaned close and kissed his forehead, before placing her chin on his head. "We've got a lot more walking to do before we get to Brambourg. And then, we'll ask for directions."

"Brambourg?"

"Or whatever the Hell lies due east of here nowadays. I'm a bit behind the times, aye?" 

"Yeah," the boy murmured, his voice dulled with sleep. "I'd better explain everything to you tomorrow, huh?"

"Aye. Now hush, sleep." 

Only a few moments passed before she heard his quiet breathing again. 

* * *

_What a world it must be, now._

_The air is different, and so are the stars above. It's hard to believe, still. That I'm out of that damn ballroom, that is. Who would have ever thought that such a thing could happen? Hopes that were broken, the same as the dust that coated the tiles, revived and realized? All through the clumsy hand of a farm boy that's lost his way. The world must be softer now, for sure. If it'd sculpted one such as him, then there is still hope for this sickly race that blights the planet._

 


	3. The Theater of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adjustments and contemplation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite fluffy. But that's the whole point of this fic anyway.

Wandering around town on a cool evening was not exactly how she imagined acclimatising herself to the world once again. There was just so much sensory stimulation, from so many different things. So many new noises, new smells and new tastes. Not to mention the sights. Indeed, some of the things she saw she couldn’t believe actually existed outside of her imagination. Even then, she knew she could not possibly have imagined the things she was seeing, walking down a paved lane in Moor.

Seven months had passed since she had returned the boy to his parents. It had taken only a few days from Brambourg (the very fact that Brambourg itself still existed was one of many surprises she knew she was to encounter in the days ahead), and soon enough she had left Moor to wander the surrounding countryside alone, her mind set on getting up to speed with what she had lost.

Her farewell had been brief, but sweet. With his parents looking on, the boy had kissed her cheek, his face scarlet, all the while muttering under his breath that she had to return soon, maybe stay with him for longer this time. She had agreed, and set off, not meaning to return soon at all. Within her experiences, she had thought it perfectly just. After all, he was but a human boy. They were a dime a dozen; maybe not ones such as him, though. The ones who freed demons from magic circles were certainly a rare breed. She had meant to travel again, see the world for what it was now. Maybe she would come back every few years or so, even if to simply observe the boy become a man. In her mind, she felt it was definitely better that way.

But every single time she had stepped outside Moor and into the forest that encircled it, she found herself turning around and aimlessly strolling through the streets, taking in the various scenes on display; a fruit vendor plying his trade on the side of the road, a new building under construction, the automobiles that would pass by, engines rumbling like tinny thunder. It would certainly be difficult to get used to, if what the boy said was true and this was indeed what a typical city looked like.

_Tut, it doesn’t matter. I will adapt, just like I did before._

* * *

 Autumn was losing its grip on the land, its hold growing weak under the touch of winter.

The fiend pulled the too-small jacket tighter over herself and walked faster, moving down Emperor’s Lane. She had left the boy’s house in the early hours of the evening, intending to explore the town market before returning. It was such an interesting place, with its quaint shops and bizarrely dressed people. Everyone seemed to mill around in certain areas; however she knew from past observations that most congregated near the town church and the market square. It was near sunset now, and the faint brushstrokes of orange that had been present then had darkened to a deep vermillion. The sun was nothing more than a tiny pink blot in the sky.

After months of trying and failing to leave, the fiend had finally decided to try and understand Moor a bit better. And for what it was worth, she was indeed accustomed to the various routines in place, especially with the boy to help her along. Sleep was the hardest task to maintain; after centuries ( _but were they centuries, or even longer than that?_ she thought, wishing for clarity) of living in a state of permanent wakefulness, it was difficult to lay her head to a pillow every time night fell. Some nights, as she had forethought, hours would go by before a tentative yawn or two, then her eyelids would flutter and maybe then sleep would claim her. But other nights she would stay awake, thoughts, memories and dreams all buzzing through her head in a chaotic interplay of intangible material.

 _And of course, the question of death will enter the picture at some point in time, won’t it?_ The thought appeared in a flash, but it was a familiar one. A thought that had appeared for the first time during one of those many sleepless nights, as she lay awake on one side of the boy’s bed, tossing and turning fitfully.

It resurfaced, just as she turned the avenue from Emperor’s Lane and onto Central Court, the road that housed the market. As usual, crowds were scattered across the wide, cobbled street, each gathering of people existing as a separate universe. Shadows moved behind colored tents lit by colored lights, indistinct and dreamlike. The square hummed with activity, the air filled with light conversation.

 _Yes, death will definitely rear its ugly head soon_ , she thought, walking towards a nearby, almost empty stall. _Such is the price of longevity we fiends are blessed with, I suppose. But staying with him for a time may ease the hurt, at least somewhat._

“Hey there, lady! You looking for something?”

A voice called out, piercing through her cloudy thoughts, abruptly bringing her down to earth. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the strange foggy feeling in her mind. Looking around the square, she searched for the owner of the voice. A few seconds passed before she realized the shabbily-dressed proprietor of the stall directly in front of her was looking at her oddly, his head cocked slightly to one side, eyes narrowed. For an instant, her heart stopped in mid-beat. _Can he see my horns?_ She allowed herself a moment of panic, before swallowing her fear and affixing a disinterested look onto her face. _There’s no way; I filed them down only yesterday!_

“What does this stall have worth looking for?” She replied, hoping her voice didn’t betray her inner anxiety. _Don’t let your gaze falter, he’ll notice._

“We sell ceramics, ma’am. Well, mostly me,” said the man, scratching his greying stubble idly. His tone was that of a villager showing a city-dweller the basics of farming. “My brother’s off somewhere in the Marsh, dunno when he’ll be back. Anyhow, we stock decorative pots and vases, all made by local artists. Care to see a few?” The fiend nodded. “I’ll be back in a minute, got a few good ones out back,” he said, gesturing behind the stall. “But feel free to look at our selection here while you wait.”

The man turned and passed under a curtain, through to what the fiend expected was the storage area of the stall. She stepped back and took in the small tent-like structure, looking it over, trying to deconstruct it piece by piece. It looked to be made out of coloured fabric, similar material to the silk that covered the stall’s wooden countertop. Two wooden barrows, wide and resting on metal supports, stood on either side of the stall. Each was filled with a motley selection of containers, each brightly colored and shining in the evening’s dying light. She took one in her hand and examined it, turning it over and running her fingers across the material.

 _I need to leave_ , she thought. _Why not just take it and go? He would never suspect a thing, there are so many of these paltry trinkets lying around-_

“Found any you like?”

She yelped in surprise, almost dropping the pot onto the cobblestones. The man had returned unnoticed, and had brought with him a small box, filled with more of the weirdly decorated pots. He set the box down on the counter and sighed, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead with a rag.

“Y-yes, I have,” she said hurriedly, ignoring the man’s expression of surprise. “This one here will be fine.” She thrust the pot at him, along with a few coins she had kept in her jacket pocket. The boy had kindly given her change from his oil errands every Wednesday, and she had never been so glad to have money as she was now. _The sooner I leave, the better. The shopkeeper suspects something, I know it._

With a nod, the stall owner handed the pot back to her, having wrapped it in colored paper. “Goodbye, thanks for buying it!” He said. “Come again soon!”

As she walked away, she was certain she could feel his wary stare at her back. _To Hell with that._

* * *

 She returned to find the boy sitting on the farmhouse’s porch, sipping from a steaming mug. His hair stuck up in tufts, cheeks pink and lip trembling. Next to him lay a small black cat, likely no more than three or four months old. It mewed at her arrival, but stayed where it was.

The fiend took a seat next to him and placed an arm around his shoulder, surprised by his demeanor. “Something the matter, person?” She asked gently, careful not to push too hard with the question. _They never seem to want to talk, which isn’t very helpful_ , she thought. _And this one in particular is quieter than most his age._

The boy placed the mug on the porch and shook his head.

"Nah, it’s nothing,” he said, but eased into her embrace as he replied. “Today was a little tiring, that’s all.” He turned to her, a small smile gracing his features. “How was the market? It’s usually packed at this time of year.”

“It was… something, for wont of a better term,” she said, returning his smile and squeezing his shoulder. “I bought myself a container from one of the stalls. It was rather charming.” She held up the ceramic pot, glad for the light that shone through the front door. “But the stall-owner was a little strange, so I left quickly.”

“Strange? Whaddya mean by that?” The boy sat up straighter and crossed his legs, looking into her eyes intently.

The fiend placed the pot next to the boy’s mug and took a deep breath.

“It was as if… as if he could see my horns, see the monster I truly am. I filed them down yesterday, but the memory escaped me for a moment then and I almost came undone.” She hung her head. “I was frightened. I thought he would cry _demon_ , and that would be the end of my foray into this world.”

A soft pressure near her hand stopped her from speaking, and she looked up to see the boy’s fingers interlacing themselves with hers.

“You’ve gotta learn to calm down,” he said soothingly. "We’re not like that anymore, at least not in this town. Nobody believes in fiends now, and the ones that do are called the crazies.” She winced as he said this; it had obviously affected him in some way. “I know you’re a fiend,” he continued. “but you’re nothing like what I’ve read about. Other people here’ve probably read about fiends too, and most of them know the stories. But nobody thinks they exist now, it’s just the way things are.”

“Nobody?” _Another difference._

“Yup, ’cept me, of course.” She smiled, and tightened her grip on him. Nearby, the kitten mewed and rolled onto its stomach, its blue eyes shining in the glow of the electric light hanging from the door frame.

“Thought of a name?” Asked the fiend, reaching out to stroke it behind the ears. It purred softly and shut its eyes in delight. The boy shrugged.

“Haven’t yet,” he said simply. “Pop doesn’t think I can take care of it since we already have a bunch of animals running around already, but I’m pretty sure it can’t be that hard.”

“Can’t possibly let it go free, can you?” At this, the boy turned to her, a horrified expression on his face.

“Are you crazy?! It’s a stray, and it’s a baby! If I let it go here, it’s as good as dead!”

“Don’t you know anybody that keeps cats?”

“We’re a fair way out of town, and most of the neighbours are pretty old,” said the boy with a grimace. “They’d have no idea how to keep a cat happy.”

“Well…”

“I know!” The boy snapped his fingers and grinned. “How about you take care of it? I think it likes you already, and I know you don’t like hangin’ around the other animals that much. Plus, you can play with it while I’m out on the farm, and we can both play with it when I get back in the evening!”

The fiend shrugged, before gathering the kitten up into her arms and nuzzling its fur.“You’ve got yourself a deal, person. This ball of fluff is too adorable for its own good!” The kitten meowed its approval, batting its paws against her cheek.

“Did I hear you just make a deal with me?” Asked the boy slyly, elbowing her in the ribs and laughing as she jerked away from him in ticklish shock.

“Hush up! I’ve got a lot to do now, thanks to you!” She smiled and elbowed him back, joining in his laughter. _What a strange ending to a strange day,_ she thought. _I now own a kitten, and I’ve gone and made a sham pact with the strangest human boy I’ve ever met. Will wonders never cease?_

* * *

It was one of those nights.

The fiend lay on her side, eyes pressed tightly shut, willing her mind with every fibre of her being to lapse back into unconsciousness. The boy slept an arm’s length away, snoring gently.

To her, this was one of the worst forms of sleeplessness: waking up after only an hour or two of dream-riddled repose, faced with the prospect of spending the rest of the night with her eyes drawn wide open like window-blinds and dreading the eventual sunrise.

She had tried so many things to rid herself of the insomnia; a nap every few hours during the day, a siesta in the evening, cold medicine, herbal remedies… none of them did so much as make her yawn.

But it was to be expected, surely. After such a long time spent desolate and companionless in that ballroom, it was unreasonable to think that she would not feel the after-effects of such a stay for the rest of her life.

_And what a life that would be, eh? The boy, and now this cat. It’s almost too much._

So many living things around her, a whole city that thrummed with vitality and activity and _life_.  A stark contrast to the silent town she had left only months before. Even a year ago, she would have known nothing but death and its hush, settled over each and every single thing like a shroud.

And she was confident she would know death once again, sooner than she would like to. _The boy is trouble. His words, his actions, his emotions… all trouble. But a good kind of trouble. Something I’d like to know more of, want to familiarize myself with, maybe-_

Her nocturnal ramblings were interrupted when the boy sneezed in his sleep, jolting her into lucid wakefulness. Sniffling, he turned to face her and began snoring once more.

 _A situation of his fashion never concludes in a way satisfactory to both parties_ , the fiend thought. She placed a hand on his waist and brought him closer to herself, resting his head against her collarbone. _It is too soon to call it love, much too soon. But it’s something similar to love, this feeling here._

She leaned close and peppered kisses across his face, his eyelids and lips. Soft, airy kisses, simply a touch of her lips on his skin. The boy shivered and cuddled closer.

_T’was comedy, in that ballroom. A human, living and breathing before me. Now, mayhaps ’tis romance. And when this dizzy jig we’re dancing comes to a close, when the lights dim and the music fades, it could be called a tragedy._

* * *

A few yawns later, the fiend was asleep, her arms around the boy, the kitten curled up in between them both. Outside, the moon sat on its throne of clouds and stars, observing the events unfolding below.


	4. Window - Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came out longer than I thought it would. So, I split it up. 
> 
> There's a lot of talking, and I'm not the best at writing body language. Please be patient, and I'll try and write a better one next time. This first part is very raw and emotional, so the writing is iffy.

The first time he’d ever returned one of her kisses, they had been on a train travelling to Caileux.

***

Four hours had passed since the train had left Moor Station, northbound for the coastal province of Caileux. The sun was still high in the sky, beating down on the tracks with a ferocity reserved only for the land’s hottest summer afternoons. The train was mostly empty, save for a few merchants and the occasional businessman scattered throughout the sixteen compartments.

A routine canister delivery, that’s all it was. After a year or so of shovelling dirt and hauling oil from one shelf to another, he’d finally landed a job that included travel in its description. Moor wasn’t known for its forges and factories, unlike the cities in the northern provinces. Oil canisters were delivered to specific cities up north once a month by the Continent-wide train system, still in its infancy.

Less than a month into the job and he’d already been tasked with oil delivery. Two days at most, he’d been told. And compared to other jobs in the city, this one paid reasonably well. At least well enough to afford two nights stay at a travellers’ house in the countryside.

Needless to say, it had taken a few days of convincing his parents before they had eventually let him out of the house.

 _After what happened last time, you can’t blame us,_ said his father mildly on the night before he’d gone to the train station. _You get lost in the woods for a couple days, no idea where that damn horse ran off to, and to top it all off you bring back home a demon! D’you have any idea how worried we were? Your ma almost called the Queen herself to send out a search party for you!_

With those words still ringing in his ears, he’d left home the next morning hefting a heavy oil canister and a trunk full of clothes, followed closely by a very amused fiend.

***

The boy let out a sigh and leaned against the headboard of the compartment’s bunk-bed, desperately hoping the train’s cooling system would take effect soon. Sweat stood out on his brow, leaking down his face and onto his chest. He’d taken off his shirt and left it in a heap on the floor below along with his trousers, content to lay on the bed simply in his undershorts. _Maybe taking the train wasn’t such a good idea_ , he thought blearily. _Are there beaches in Caileux?_ He sighed again.

The fiend giggled beneath him, and he heard her shift her bunk covers aside.

“I can hear you sighing from down here, you know.”

The boy sighed yet again, more of a groan this time. _I bet she can, with those stupid pointed ears. Maybe that’s how she’s keeping herself cold._

“I know, but I can’t help it!” He replied, fanning himself with his hand. “How’re you still alive?” The fiend poked her head out from under her bunk and looked up at him.

“Mind if I come up there? I’ll show you a way to cool down.” He scoffed and met her gaze.

“In this kind of heat, there’s no way! But sure, knock yourself out.”

“What?”

“Just get up here.” He shut his eyes and lay back.

The bed dipped slightly as she climbed up onto it.

A moment later, he felt a delicious sensation spread across his chest. He couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped his lips, and he opened his eyes to find the fiend blowing cool air gently over his stomach.

“Better?” She asked, leaning down to touch her nose to his neck. He nodded, suddenly unable to form words. Without thinking, he reached up a hand to cup the back of her head, entangling his fingers in her hair. His cheeks felt as if they were on fire. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood up straight and he shivered in delight. Wait a minute, he thought, unable to stop himself from smiling dazedly. _What does this have to do with keeping cool, again?_

She continued to gently brush her lips against him, laughing at his yelps and whimpers. Her fingers ran down his bare chest, his ribs and along his waist, teasing and stroking. It felt like her touch was everywhere.

Finally, she straddled him, placing her palms on his chest. He looped his arms around her waist almost automatically and looked up at her, biting his lip to stop from crying out. A warmth was pooling in his stomach and quickly heading south. _Gonna hafta move so she doesn’t feel that; could get awkward soon,_ he thought before lifting a knee and pushing her aside. She gave a cry of surprise before seating herself on his lap again, making sure to grind her hips onto him as she did so.

“Not like I haven’t touched one before.” She said, cat-like eyes wide and brimming with mischief. His blush deepened and he looked away as her smile grew wider. A fang poked out of the corner of her mouth, its tip glinting in the sunlight. Her hair was loose and flowing; she’d let it grow out somewhat after moving into the farmhouse with him. _I’ll travel soon,_ she’d told him then. _Show me what I’ve missed, first._

“Well… I just, uh…” It was as if the connection between his brain and his tongue had been severed. Nothing he could think of seemed to match the situation at all, and his inexperience suddenly surfaced in his mind unpleasantly. _What the Hell do I do here?_

The fiend cocked her head to the side, regarding him.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” she said, her voice suddenly much too sultry and quiet for his liking. “And I see you’ve let the heat slip your mind completely, eh?”

 _Wait, wha- damn it, she’s right!_ He cursed, knowing the fiend had taken up his challenge and won.

“Shaddup. That one doesn’t count.” She only laughed in response.

“Doesn’t look it from where I am.”

He turned his head towards the compartment window, muttering sulkily. A featureless green expanse met his eyes, punctuated occasionally by stretches of wooden fence and patches of brown pine forest. The train was travelling faster than before. Above them, the sun shone brightly in a cloudless blue sky.

He faced her and cracked a smile of his own, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left.

“So what, you expectin’ a medal or-“

He gasped as the fiend settled onto him without warning, laying her head next to his. Her eyes watched him carefully, flicking from his reddened cheeks to his exposed chest. He heard her breathe in deeply, murmuring something indiscernible as she did.

“I’m expecting something, alright.” She said, louder this time. Her warm breath tickled his ear and he made to wriggle away, but she held him fast.

“Something like what?” He asked, though he felt as if he already knew. In reply, the fiend only smiled wider and leaned into him, touching their lips together.

He’d never been kissed before, at least not properly, or in the way the older kids he saw in the city would do it. It seemed sort of scary, the way they’d move against each other, eyes closed and breathing heavy. He looked away any time he saw it, convinced he wasn’t missing much.

But this… this was _very_ different from what he’d imagined.

At first, he’d kept his lips shut, along with his eyes. His hands gripped the fiend’s waist tightly, probably too tight to be comfortable. As she continued to kiss him, he cautiously opened his lips wider, trying his best to match her movements. The fiend gave a soft cry of surprise as he found her tongue, caressing along its length with his own.

For some reason, everything she did made his stomach flutter. Her eager moans and mewls, coupled with her body rocking on top of him left him seeing stars. _This is pretty good,_ the part of his brain that was still able to function managed to think. _Tastes funny though. Guess I’ll just have to get used to it. To her._

A few seconds longer and she pulled away slowly, eyes glazed over, her face split in a wide, dreamy smile. Her coffee-coloured hair, so neatly brushed at the beginning of the journey, stuck up in untidy wisps and knots. One hand rested on his chest while the other petted his cheek.

“I didn’t expect that,” she said. Her voice was low and husky. “You ever kissed someone before, person?” He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. The fiend lay down against him, wrapping an arm around his chest, pressing herself close.

“W-where’d that come from?” He said after he’d swallowed several times, ensuring his voice didn’t turn into a squeak.

“Where’d what come from?”

“That… the kiss.” He licked his lips a few times, running his tongue over where she had just been a few seconds ago. _Holy… I’m all shivery now. How’d she do that?_

“What kind of an answer are you looking for?” The fiend replied, nuzzling the hollow of his throat affectionately. Her hands were still roaming his body and it was all he could do to keep himself from turning over and kissing her again. _I wonder if she liked it_ , he thought to himself languidly. _I don’t think I did too good, though._

“Any answer’s fine,” he said, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch. “S’long as it makes sense, because that felt pretty weird.”

The compartment was filled with the fiend’s laughter, and the train drove on.

***

It was almost midnight when the locomotive pulled into Caileux Railway Station, almost all of its compartments emptied from the trip. High above the tracks, the moon was obscured by a veil of clouds and a brisk wind swept through the train as the boy slowly drifted awake.

His eyes opened slowly, still fogged over with sleep. _W-whoa, my chest feels sorta heavy,_ he thought, trying to shake himself awake. His lips were still swollen, and his heart still beat at about a million miles an hour. Every part of his body felt as if it was filled with a weird pulsing heat (especially the part of his body he tried his best to ignore). The only sound heard in the compartment was the fiend’s quiet breathing and his own, trembling and apprehensive.

_Wait… is that… hair?!_

He sneezed, the sensation of softness on his upper lip tickling him uncontrollably. A few seconds later, he realised who it was that was dozing peacefully on him, her arms enfolded securely around his body.

_Shit._

The fiend’s dress had hiked up, revealing much more of her than he thought he’d ever see. Milky white thighs, tapering off down to rounded calves and well-defined, bony ankles. _Her skin’s so smooth_ , he thought to himself, somehow feeling uncomfortably warm even in his underclothes. _She doesn’t even have hair or nothin’, not even a scar!_ He resisted the urge to run his fingers over her as he shifted positions so as not to disturb her.

She slept peacefully, unaware that he was staring at her with his mouth open like a lost traveller in a desert who had found an oasis. Every once in a while, she would snore and her arms would tighten around his chest protectively, and he would gasp with a strange, alien wanting that seemed completely foreign to his mind. Suddenly, his mouth ran dry and his head felt lighter than the balloons they used to sell at the city fair back home.

_God, this is so weird. A few little kisses and all of a sudden I’m drooling over her like she’s some slag off the street. Jeez, get it together!_

He moved again, lifting her arms off of him so he could roll over and finally sit up on one side of the bed. The fiend breathed a soft whine of disappointment before sleepily clutching at the empty space where he had been lying.

Something in his chest thrilled at the sight of her, lying next to him with that bewitching smile on her face, her hair ruffled and messy. This time, he made no move to stop himself as he reached out a hand to shake her awake.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Miss. Wake up. We’re here.”

After a few seconds the fiend opened her eyes and yawned. She blinked, eyes wide and tired before focusing on him and smiling ruefully. _There’s that smile again_ , he thought and smiled back. _She’s really somethin’, isn’t she?_

“You’re awake, I see,” she said, stretching and sitting up. “Have we arrived at Caileux?”

“Yup, the train just pulled into the station. I’ll give you a few minutes to wake up some more, and we’ll get goin’ after.”

“There’s no need, I’ll just pick up my jacket and we can head off.” She said. “So, have you thought about what I told you?”

“Huh… wh-what?” The fiend slipped closer, placing a hand on his knee.

“About the kiss, I mean. You’ve turned it over in your mind, everything I said?”

“Well, there’s still some stuff I wanna talk about.”

“Like what?”

“Well, the part you said about me bein’ human and you bein’ a fiend. Is it really that important?” The fiend sighed.

“Depends on what you deem as being important, person,” she said, giving his knee a friendly squeeze and resting her head on his shoulder. “The undeniable certitude that one day you’ll leave this Earth for something else, leaving me behind, is something I’d think was of rather great consequence, wouldn’t you say?”

“Leaving you? What are you talkin’ about, I’m right here, ain’t I?” He said, surprised. The fiend pressed her lips to his temple, shutting her eyes and breathing out quietly.

“That’s the thing, person. You’ve got to understand how absolutely nothing you know now is writ in stone.” She said those last words with such bitterness that his eyes widened. “I’ve seen so many things happen. So many people have come and then gone again, people that I’d learned to look on with favor, people I’d simply hated. And then some, I’d even… loved.” She looked up at him as she said it, her eyes suddenly watering. “I’ve started to grow quite fond of you, person. There hasn’t been one like you in the aeons I’ve lived through, not one. And the truth still remains the same, no matter how much I may love you; I know that one day, I’ll wake up and find you gone, your breath in this world simply a memory.” Her words suddenly brought his brain to a grinding halt, quieting the world around them both for a few moments.

_Wait. Hold on._

“D-did you just say you love me?” The boy managed to stutter out. “‘Cause I’m not sure I heard that right.”

“You did,” the fiend said shakily, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand before gifting him a tender smile. “I’ve tried so hard not to, in fact. _Not_ to love you. Tried not to become attached to you at all, but how could that happen?”

“But… why’s there a problem with loving me?” The boy asked, eyebrows knotted in concentration. “I…uh, sort of love you too, I guess,” the boy said, slipping over his words. This was certainly unfamiliar territory. “There aren’t really any other girls I like the way I like you, it’s really weird. You’re real pretty, and smart, and the way you talk is kinda cute, I think.” I sound like an idiot right now, I know it, he thought. “But isn’t it okay, though? Us both being… well, in love?”

“Think, my jester, think! One day, you’ll be dead, and where will that leave me?” She took him by the shoulders and pushed her face close to his. Her eyes were bright and gleaming with tears. “Alone, that’s where! Roaming the land, forever. Maybe one day I’ll pass on, too. But until then, I’ll have to live with the knowledge that you will leave me behind!”

“Well, it’s not like it’s my fault, is it?! Sure, I’m going to die someday, an’ I dunno when that is, but until then I can still be with you!”

“I just…” The fiend let out a deep sigh and lay her head on his shoulder, small sobs racking her body. “I have lost so many I’ve loved to the void of death, lad. The last thing I want is to lose you too.” Her last sentence came out as a quiet breath, so quiet he barely heard it.

“Hey, stop it,” he said, stroking her back in wide circles. The motion was quite awkward; he could feel his own breath hitching in his throat as he held her closer. “It’s alright, okay? It’s fine. I’m right here.” _I can’t even imagine it,_ he thought, shutting his eyes against a few stray tears. W _hat’d it be like? Losing everything you cared about? And time just keeps passing, not giving a damn about you. God, it’s horrible that she had to go through so much, and nobody even knows._

The fiend hiccuped, and he kissed her forehead as she leaned into him. Her fingers clutched at his shoulder piteously. Her every breath came out slow and ragged, warm against his bare skin. “We’d better leave, before the conductor kicks us out,” she said, not making a move. Her eyes, raw and shimmering with tears, looked up at him questioningly. “We can talk more at the house, right?” He nodded, unable to speak.  
  
 _What am I supposed to say?_


	5. Window - Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the unreasonably long hiatus away from this fic. Life got in the way. I hope I can update sooner next time. Maybe I'll refrain from including more narrative-based chapters, and instead focus on drabble and fluff.

The boy couldn't remember when he'd started taking the fiend's touches for granted; after a year of furtive caresses, soft angel kisses in the eventide's low light and gentle cuddles before he fell asleep, he'd stopped questioning her affections and simply began returning them in kind. Part of him remained wary, if only for the fact that she was a demon hiding in plain sight, while another part silently begged her not to stop every time she touched her lips to his.

Before she entered his life, he realized he'd never felt this way. The burning in his cheeks and the tops of his ears, the stutter he developed that appeared only when she was near, the sudden need to reciprocate her touches; everything had arisen from that one meeting in the dusty ballroom. 

The Caileux resthouse felt like a much needed interlude, an escape. Moor was slowly becoming a cage, and he couldn’t fathom why. But it was worse with each passing day. Each day he’d gone into work, with the air in the canister shop slowly becoming more and more clogged with smoke, just as he imagined his lungs were. His muscles felt like rusted bits of metal, corroding away to nothing, leaving behind an empty husk. It was easier to do the work than before, but there was no more joy. The first excitement of employment and the promise of getting a financial reward soon lost its magic. It was not toil and drudgery, but it was coming close. He was glad for the assignment, and being able to leave.  _The fresh air better clear my head. Maybe then I can think about this a bit easier._

Sitting on the foot of his bed with the fiend sleeping behind him, his dozy thoughts began to arrange themselves into a more coherent form. 

***

_Could we be something, the both of us?_

This first thought was slightly appealing, maybe even hopeful. She loved him, after all; she’d said that to him, loud and clear. He was surprised it had taken him so long to understand. Those touches did mean something; every kiss, every hug, every loving embrace - but to him, deciphering the meaning of those touches were something else entirely. 

He lay back on the bed, trying his best not to disturb the sleeping fiend.

_It’s real confusing, this ‘love’ business. Ain’t it? But I guess I see her point. After I’m dead and gone, she’ll be all alone again. Just like she was before. But why does this time matter so much to her?  What’s so different?_

The boy was surprised when he heard another voice answer - a voice that sounded much more mature and weary than his own. 

_Of course she’s worried, you dolt. She’s lost so much already. Every death will take so much out of a person, don’t you get it? You sheltered farmhand, of course you won’t! What do you know of death? What do you know? How could you possibly put into perspective a thousand lifetimes of love and loss?_

He shut his eyes tighter, hoping to blot out the sharp anger and fear that those thoughts had conjured up. Blood pounded in his ears, and the earth felt as if it was falling away from him. He fell back onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

_I need tea._

***

Idly, he stirred. The tea was dark and strong, just the way he liked it. No sugar, nothing to distract from the taste. He’d found a mug in one of the kitchen cupboards. It had been fairly dusty, but after a few good washes it was as good as new.

The fiend still slept quietly on the double bed behind him.

He placed the spoon into the sink and walked out onto the balcony, leaving the door cracked open slightly to let the room air out. It was a warm night, once again. The sky was so clear. It stretched above him like a vast, black ocean. Glittering stars speckled the fabric while the moon was a simple silver smile. He looked up at it before sitting on the balcony and sticking his legs over the edge. 

He sipped his tea, and the minutes ticked by. It tasted strong and fragrant, leaving a flowery aftertaste. A perfect complement to the thoughts that milled in his mind like the passengers at the train station. 

_What’s the fuss with all this death stuff, anyway? It’s just something that happens. Everyone’s used to it. Babies die. Kids die if they’re not careful crossing the road. Adults die all the time. But life keeps going on. The world keeps turning, sunrise and sunset._

He didn’t hear the fiend join him on the balcony till her warm breath brushed against his ear. She sat behind him, stretching out her legs and fitting him against her like a puzzle piece. One arm wrapped around his waist, the other rubbing his shoulder gently. 

“May I have a sip?” Her voice, usually calm and soft, gave him goosebumps this time. He passed her the mug with no comment, and she sipped the tea eagerly. She handed it back and leaned her chin on his shoulder, pressing soft kisses into his neck. 

“You slept a lot.” He said. They passed the tea back and forth, enjoying the silence. Eventually, the mug was drained.

“I’m aware. It’s past midnight, is it not?” 

“Mhm. A few hours past. I didn’t know how long you were gonna be out, so I made myself some tea.” The fiend yawned and kissed his ear, before holding his body tighter against hers. Proprietorially. He felt a tingling that wasn’t altogether unfamiliar, deep in his chest. 

“I noticed.” He smiled, the corners of his mouth fighting to raise themselves. He hadn’t been aware of the stray tears that had tracked themselves down his cheeks, but the fiend’s fingers soon remedied that. “You’ve been crying?"

“Y-yeah. I didn’t realize.” The fiend wiped them away and turned his head to face her. He leaned back and rested his head on her shoulder, staring up at her with an idiot vagueness.

“I assume this is because of the conversation we had on the train, isn’t it?”

“I’m still… I don’t know what else to do!” He put the mug down, afraid things would soon get out of hand. “God, I’m still so fucking torn up about it.” He didn’t notice her sharp intake of breath at his vulgarity, but he did notice the way her grip around his waist tightened as she pulled him ever closer. “And I’ve got no choice now I’m in love with you, and the way you kissed me just made me so happy and I don’t ever want to leave you and - "

“Then don’t.”

His mouth kept moving, but he thought it was a little odd how the words didn’t seem to want to leave his brain. Eventually, he stopped trying altogether and looked up at the fiend, one arm around her neck and the other cupping her cheek. His mug of tea cooled on the side of the balcony, spewing steam into the suddenly frosty air. The fiend gently disengaged herself from him, stood up and daintily brushed her dress off, before reaching out a hand. “Don’t leave me, then. Just stay."

He shook his head and took her hand, letting her pull him up and into a gentle embrace. “Don’t leave?"

“That’s right. It’s not hard."

“B-but weren’t you saying before… on the train…"

“I know what I said. I’m surprised that I didn’t bother thinking about the other side of things before.”

“What are ya tryna say?” The boy stepped back, but kept his arms around her waist, holding her close, their noses touching. The fiend looked away, down at her toes and then towards the moon. She took a deep breath. The dam was about to break, and he knew it. They both knew it. 

“I’ve decided on it."

“On what…?” 

“I love you. That’s all I care about now.” She stepped away from him and leaned over the balcony, a vein pulsing on her temple and sweat gleaming on her pale skin. “Why did I bother hating for so long? I was so caught with the mortality of others… I forgot I was alive too. And when they all died, one after the other… I died with them. Every single time.” Her voice grew quiet, a desperate whisper. “I was so afraid of dying this time, too.” 

The boy sighed and picked up his mug. His fingers slipped once or twice, and the plain ceramic mug almost fell onto the tiles. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, and every muscle felt as taut as metal wire. 

"Does this... does this mean..."

"You're correct." The fiend pushed off from the balcony railing and looped an arm around his, pulling him into the room. Electric lamplight suffused the small space, illuminating the slight pink blush that dusted her cheeks. She was sweating, even in the cool of the dawning air. “I’ve thought it through. I’m not going to look back anymore. The past holds no surprises for me."

The boy put the mug down on the table, praying that his feet would hold him up.  _So... so she's saying she'll be with me._

"Until I die?" 

"Until you're taken away from me. Until then," she moved close and pushed him against the table; he stumbled backwards until he was sitting on the smooth wooden surface, the fiend's slender arms around his shoulders, her lips brushing against his nose and upper lip. "You'd better get used to this, my jester."

***

Morning seemed to arrive in a hurry.

Birds chirped and the sun was blinding through the curtains when he finally opened his eyes. His body was thrumming with a weird energy. He felt both invigorated and very tired, impossibly at the same time. He turned to see that the bed was empty, but the covers were still undone. The fiend's dress lay next to him, rumpled and messy. The telltale flutter of water hitting tiles reached his ears, and it was as if all the blood in his body had suddenly shot back to his heart, stopping it for a second or two.

_Holy shit._

"Holy  _shit._ " He gripped his face hard, smacking his own cheek a few times and pulling his hair. He lifted the blankets just to check, and confirmed his own suspicions.

He was completely naked.

" _Holy shit!_ "

“What’s all the noise?” The fiend’s voice drifted from the bathroom. The shower was no longer running, and he could hear bare feet padding along the tiles. Silence for a few minutes. The door opened with a creak, and his heart stopped. 

She still wore a towel, but at that moment, that bit of information slipped by his brain. Her arms were wrapped around her bare chest, and the towel around her waist hugged her hips much too tightly. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he had begun to mumble and drool. She wore her hair down, and water droplets glistened on her horns. 

The fiend yawned. “Glad to see you’ve woken. I feared the Sandman had taken you for his own.” Her voice was still low from sleep, but he could detect an unmistakeably sultry edge. The same tone she’d used last night when she’d peeled off his clothes and pushed him onto the bed. He rubbed his eyes. A warmth, sudden but not unwelcome, started its way down his chest and then into his waist.

“Did we r-really do what I think we did?” 

“Hm?"

“Last night, I mean.” He sat up and threw the blankets off of himself. They’d become too warm. “Did you really… you know?” The fiend nodded and adjusted the towel around her hips, stepping closer to him. His throat felt dry and he made several odd croaking noises, not too different from a toad in rainy season. 

“It felt more like we made love to each other, you know. I didn’t do _all_ the work.” Her smile, cat-like and mischievous, simply grew and grew. The canine that he’d loved so much, the one that poked over her lip when he’d make her smile especially wide, glinted in the sun. “You made such cute noises. And your scent…” She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, the pink blush on her cheeks showing clearly. “I need to get you out of your clothes more often, lad.” He swallowed hard and attempted to loosen his collar, only to remember that he had none to loosen.

“Well, you had better start the day, love.” She said, her eyes scanning his form appreciatively. He looked away, unable to make eye contact. "If I’m not mistaken…” She looked past him and at the crisply blue mid-morning sky. “You have a canister delivery to make today, at around noon. Not long now."

Even before he could form words in his mind, his mouth had taken over.

“Wait a second, just gimme a minute to process everything that happened last night! I’m not even wearing anything, and neither are you, and did we do what I think we did last night because it seems like it and-“  He ran out of breath; perhaps it was for the best. The fiend was giggling uncontrollably, now not bothering to hide her lack of clothes. Her towel was coming undone and he felt as if he would faint, so light did his head feel. 

“My poor jester, how flustered you’ve become all of a sudden!” She sauntered over to the bed and sat on his lap, resting an arm around his shoulder. She poked his nose lovingly. “I almost feel bad for playing with you this way… but not really.” 

He sighed and adjusted himself so he could wrap both his arms around her comfortably. She gave a soft yelp of surprise and held onto his shoulders to steady herself, before staring into his eyes curiously. 

“We'll have to be out by late afternoon, say around two at the latest. The factory’s about four miles out of the city."

“That’s what it said on the letter, yes. Why are you telling me this? I already know."

“Oh, no reason.” He felt as though he was wading through a lake, feeling for deep spots, potholes and dangerous creatures. Wandering through an unexplored forest, hacking through low-hanging leaves and fending off mosquitoes and bloodflies. His hair was standing on end, and the air was suddenly thick and warm. Sweat beaded on his forehead, on his arms and chest. _Make it up as you go along, make it up as you go along._

“Really? No reason…?” The fiend narrowed her eyes, giving him a coy grin. “Planning to spend the rest of the day in bed, are we?"

“Oh, ya caught me.” The fiend giggled and held him closer; his body fit neatly against hers, and the realization that she was no longer wearing a towel came as a lightning quick burst of thought. His heart skipped a beat. _Again. God, the things she does to me._

“So, what do you say we do to pass the time, jester?"

“I…” _I didn’t think this through, did I?!_ “W-well, I was, uhm…” She silenced him with a quick kiss. 

“So articulate! One of the reasons I’m infatuated with you, surely.” She rolled her eyes before kissing him again and pushing him back onto the bed. He looked up at her, hoping against hope that his trembling lip didn’t lead to anything more. His body was a maelstrom of so many things he didn’t even know he _could_ feel. 

“Shaddup, you.” He looked away and blushed even harder, convinced his face would soon catch fire. 

“Oh, you can sense sarcasm now?” Giggling, she ran her fingers down his chest, and up to his navel. “If, as you say, we are indeed staying in until late noon, I assume you’ve invented some way to keep us occupied until then?"

“Uhm, well… you c-could say that, I g-guess… when you p-put it that way…” She waved a hand dismissively and leaned forward, so her nose was touching his. This close, he could practically feel the fire that burned underneath her skin. _She’s gonna burn me alive, I just know it._

“Don’t you worry your little head over it, my jester. I’ve got some wonderful ideas."

***

She kissed him deeply, then, lips wandering over each and every inch of his flesh as they rediscovered each other in daylight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't written anything for a long time, mostly because I was afraid that I would ruin what I had written in the last chapter. I'd set such high expectations for the narrative of these chapters and I was scared that this one just wouldn't cut it, no matter what I wrote. After almost a year, I've decided that this is good enough, and I hope people who read this agree too. I needed some closure, so I can finally work on new ideas and new situations for these two. Thanks for reading.


	6. Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fiend and the boy in snowy weather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this wonderful piece of artwork: http://softmode.deviantart.com/art/Fiend-Boy-345923062

Snow had come early to Moor; weeks earlier than she remembered. The air had been chilly for the few months beforehand, and when the first few flakes of snow fell to earth she had marvelled at the changes, just as she had done with everything else. She had been reborn into a new world. 

She had never cared much for snow, before her time in the circle. _Not much good for anything besides sitting in front of a crackling fire with a mug of tea,_ she told herself time and time again. _But add to that a good book, and snow seems quite useful._ The walks that she took with the boy did little to change her opinion. She had to get bundled up in ridiculous clothing and wear strange shoes that seemed suspiciously similar to the racquets in tennis. The boy would tease and carry on merrily, sometimes buying her sweaters or jumpers a size too large for her skinny frame. The sleeves would go past her arms so it would seem as if she had donned a broken straitjacket. 

After she had covered herself in God only knew how many layers, the boy would take her hand (timidly, as always; she would lovingly squeeze his in return, just to calm his fraying nerves) and pull her along, out of the house and down the garden path. Depending on which month it was, the stone path would sometimes be iced over or even fully covered with snow. This year, she noticed, the frost was exceptionally pretty. Snow covered everything, a dense veneer of pure white.  

Winter breezes would nip at her like the teeth of irritatingly small dogs, tendrils of cold worming their way through the gaps in between her clothes and stroking her skin with fingers of ice. They would crunch through the snowfall, the boy and the fiend, arms wrapped tightly around each other as they wandered the streets. Hours would pass as they walked, mostly silent; the quiet was only broken by the isolated roar of a passing automobile, or the hushed clack of hooves on ice as a horse-drawn carriaged passed them. It was always too damn cold to talk, anyhow. She would look at him and marvel at the soft blush over his cheeks; she could never find out whether it was from the chill of the air, or because he was holding her so closely. But she never minded. It was nice to be held by him, especially since the top of his head barely reached over her shoulder. On the days when the winter winds blew particularly fiercely, sending ice and snow into their faces, he would retreat into her, hiding his face in the crook of her arm, pulling her even closer. On these days, she would hold him tight and try her best to stop him from shivering, surprised that he was less accustomed to the cold than she was. 

***

It was on one such day that the boy wandered over to her, eyes ringed with sleeplessness, and asked her if she would walk with him. She had shut the book she had been reading after dog-earing the page, and nodded her head wordlessly. There were no words needed. 

He pulled on a hat and a thick jacket, passing her the only jacket she ever willingly wore; it was a small thing, lined with sheep’s wool and painted a warm red. The hem of it reached her waist, and she felt like a child whenever she wore it. It was also the first thing he had ever bought for her, months after she had agreed to stay with him. 

_And it’s a wonder I did, too. After all the trouble we went through to return him to his ‘Moor’… methinks fate had been kinder than usual, that day._

***

They walked and walked, past the greengrocer’s, past the newly opened bank and the tiling factory where the boy worked every Wednesday. The streets were paved with newly fallen snow, casting a hush over everything. 

She decided to break the quiet.

“Is there a reason for this, person?” She asked, fingers trailing lightly up and down his arm. He turned to her and shook his head, taking her arm in his and pulling her closer. The wind was slightly more nippy than it had been in the morning, and blew with a promise of covering the land with frost. 

“Nah, not really. There’s a great coffee joint up by Lake Bailey, just opened up a couple weeks back. Wanted to see if you’d like to have some hot chocolate with me is all.” He said, his voice soft like a lamb’s. 

“Oh, is that so? Well, you _know_ I love these walks with you,” she said, trying her best to inject a gently mocking tone into her voice. “Wrapped up in an enormous jacket, slipping and sliding on walkways covered in ice… what’s not to adore?” Her grin widened as she heard the boy’s quiet gasp. 

“W-well, I m-mean… if you didn’t like going on th-them-“

“I say that in jest, lad.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, tasting flakes of freshly fallen snow; the boy shivered, but said nothing. An automobile slowly rumbled past, tires skidding slightly on the icy road. “I would love nothing more than to have hot chocolate with you on a day like this. You’re aware of how us fiends are with chocolate, aye?”

“What?”

“Fiends. We love chocolate. Absolutely relish the flavour. It’s lucky for you that such an alignment of the stars occurred, yes? A cosmic coincidence such as this!” She laughed, her breath coming out in wispy puffs. “I wonder how a jester such as yourself gained such valuable knowledge. Must be from all those _stories_ you heard as a child, eh?” 

“Quit it, you!”

***

They sipped in silence. The chocolate was pure warmth with a pleasant aftertaste, and she had two cups before deciding against a third. 

The restaurant was a blocky wooden structure that seemed to fit into the side of the hill like a puzzle piece, overlooking Lake Bailey. The lake itself had frozen over and it resembled an icy white plain more than anything. The sky above was cloudless and grey; but not an angry grey that signalled thunder or rain. 

The boy sat in front of her and tapped his mug with a finger, his eyes roaming the snow-covered banks of the lake. There was no birdsong outside; it was as if he was searching for life. He yawned and she almost cried out. 

Looking at him, she felt a twinge of nostalgia. It crept over her skin, raising the hairs on her arms and pricking at the corners of her eyes. She shut them furiously, before tears gave her away.

_What’s this… huh? This feeling, what is it? Have I seen this place before? Have I been here before?_

The dawning realisation came to her like a swift blow; she had. Countless years ago, so long ago that she wasn’t even sure that the memory was real. It felt real; but she supposed all memories do. This one existed in the ether of her mind, like the smoke from a candle after it burns through its wick. 

She had been like this before. With her ‘miss’. With Stella. 

*** 

The journey back took less time than she thought it would. Everything around her seemed in transience, slightly shimmering in the now steady snowfall.

_What a time to recall a faded memory,_ the fiend daydreamed. _And, perhaps, how many memories besides that drift inside my head? Memories similar to it, sewn in patches like a quilt. They hang suspended like brooding storm clouds, content to rain whenever it suits their fancy._

She looked over at the boy, as he clumped through the snow beside her. His hair was flecked with pieces of frost and ice, and his cheeks, as before, were tinged with a soft pinkness that almost stilled her heart. 

They walked onwards down the street, past the parked automobiles, past the tiling factory and the bank and the greengrocer’s. 

He did not say a word after they had arrived at home, save for a ‘thank you’; she didn’t think the soft kiss he gave her at the door counted. 

 


End file.
